(for more chapters, see the studio below) Fear began snaking its way through Will, traveling the entire course of his body and seizing hold of his muscles and his mind. Panic began to settle in, wrapping around his heart and squeezing, making it beat faster than it should. He reached his hand up, shaking, and gently felt the goosebumps that raised against his nape of his neck. Faintly, he could hear a voice. A low, grumbly voice that seemed to crackle with every syllable. A voice that he would recognize anywhere. /Vecna/. “William…” He breathed. Only that single word was enough to send Will into a full-on panic, gut-clenching fear writhing around inside him. He felt as helpless now as he did all those years ago, trapped in a derelict, barren echo of the world he knew. He didn’t remember much about that time, only the mind-numbing fear and primal survival instinct, the cold that settled deep into his bones and never quite went away, even after he returned, and the way the places that were once his sanctuaries, his safe places, became a last resort hiding spot from something twisted, evil. Something hungry. Was this it? Was he coming for him now? He considered going to Mike, shouting for the party, to warn them that the time had come. But what if he was already in a trance, his physical body already passed out on the kitchen floor? Will was paralyzed, sure that if he tried to speak at all, all that would come out would be a desperate whisper. Any second now, Vecna would- But then, as quick as the feeling had come, it was quiet. The goosebumps were gone. Will was uncertain if that had even happened. It felt as if he imagined the whole thing. He knew he should tell somebody, but against his better judgement, he decided to keep it to himself. He didn’t want to worry everyone with a false alarm. Most of all, he didn’t want any pity from Mike. He shook it off, pushing that thought as far away from his mind as possible. Eventually, his breathing slowed, his pulse calming, and the thought of Mike floated back into his mind. Their fight. The more he thought about it, the more this felt like something they couldn’t come back from, not unless Will told the truth. But the truth would just make things ten times worse. Oh f--k. When he was sure he wouldn’t burst out crying like a child at the sight of Mike, he made his way back to the living room. Lucas glanced at him, “Where’s the snacks?” Oh, right. Another lie to add to his collection. “C- couldn’t find any.” He said, his breath catching. Will was surprised by how small his voice sounded. Weak, defeated. Like he came far too close to his truth being found out, a secret part of himself that he’s spent his whole life trying to bury. This was a skeleton in his closet that he kept hidden under lock and key at all times, and Mike almost discovered the keyring. What would he think when he saw that decomposing corpse out in full display? Will wasn’t eager to find out. “Okay,” Lucas shrugged, confused, but went right back to the movie. Mike made sure to turn his head away as Will came into his view. He was flooded with guilt, a guttural shame that nestled right in the pit of his stomach. He hated the way he confronted Will, but more than that, he was hurt that Will wouldn’t tell him the truth. Why couldn’t he just say whatever it was and they could move on? But then again, Mike had secrets of his own that he could never let out into the open, especially not to Will. He felt like such a hypocrite, expecting him to spill all of his guts to Mike while he would never do the same. They finished the first movie, then the second, neither of them paying any attention anymore. When the credits rolled on the second movie, Mike was quick to take the chance to escape before anyone could suggest another activity. “I don’t feel so good. I think I’m gonna head home.” He said quickly, walking right out the door, almost slamming it as he left. Everyone was quiet for a moment. “What’s wrong with him?” Dustin finally said. “He’s.. Going through something. He just needs time.” Will said softly, picking at the edge of his sweater. “Man, how come he only ever tells /you/ anything?” Lucas joked, gesturing towards Will. 'That wouldn’t be happening again anytime soon', Will thought. He almost wanted to laugh. A self-depricating laugh that would be the precursor to sobs, that is. He just shrugged. “Well, I guess I should probably get going as well, then. Ma said she wanted my help cooking dinner, so.” Dustin shrugged, gathering his things and standing up off the couch. Lucas held out a hand for Dustin to pull him up, “Yeah, I should probably get back to the hospital. Wouldn’t wanna miss it if Max decides to wake up. See you, guys.” He said. They both headed for the door. Will and Eleven were left in silence as the door shut. “He told you?” She asked quietly, regret and shame clear in her eyes.
“Yeah.” Will breathed the word more than he actually spoke it. “He said he wasn’t angry about you guys breaking up though. He was more upset with me than anything.” “Yeah.. I meant to ask about that. What was that whole thing with the painting? Why did you say it was from me?” He shrugged desolately, “I just wanted to make him feel better.” He echoed his same excuse he had given Mike. It was part of the truth, he supposed. He hated that he couldn’t even say it to El of all people. He knew that she could never hate him, no matter what he said, he just didn’t know how to form the words. “Was it the same painting you were working on in the weeks before he visited us over spring break in Lenora? You were so secretive about it and you spent so much time locked away in your room working on it. I could’ve sworn it looked like you were making it for a girl you liked.” Will laughed at that. Only a small, single chuckle, but a laugh nonetheless. A girl. Then, suddenly, he clamped a hand over his mouth. She must have realized what that laugh meant, right? And just like that, he could feel the key being inserted into his closet, turning slowly, threatening to burst it open. El raised a telling eyebrow. “Y’know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think Mike was that ‘girl’.” And out came the corpse, falling to the floor. Will was unable to speak. 'She knows she knows she knows she knows', his mind said on repeat, like an alarm. “I.. I-” She sighed, rolling her eyes with a grin. “It’s okay, Will. I’ve suspected for a while, actually.” “What?” Maybe the closet wasn’t as secure as he thought. “Since when?” “Since the airport, when you tried - and failed - to give him the painting then. I had only seen you working on that one painting for weeks, and then you finish it right as Mike is planned to visit? I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence.” “But I.. I broke you guys up with my lie.” “Will, no, you didn’t. You prolonged it, if anything. Neither of us were happy anymore, and both of us were too scared to do anything about it. He asked me to be alone earlier and I.. I dunno. I had to put us both out of our misery. But none of that was your fault, Will. None of it.” He laughed hollowly, “Mike doesn’t seem to think so.” “Mike’s an idiot, okay? And oblivious. And a jerk. And self-centered. And an /idiot/.” She said, pulling a real laugh out of Will. She smiled at him, “Give him time. He’s just going through a lot of emotions right now, and you and I both know he’s terrible at /feelings/.” He bit his lip, trying desperately to hold the tears back. “So.. you’re not mad? You’re not weirded out, or disgusted, or feel.. Like you don’t want to hang out with me anymore? You’re perfectly fine with the fact that I’m..” He stopped, unable to finish. It was hard for him to fathom that any of this could be true. “What? Will, oh my god, no.” She pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I would never feel that way about you. You can like girls, or boys, or Demogorgons for all I care. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I happen to think it’s pretty b--chin’.” They both laughed, and just like that, the dam broke. The cracks that had been forming inside Will the last few months crumbled, and the tears began to fall. They started slow, progressed into a steady stream, and then a tsunami flowing down the length of his face and dripping off his chin. He felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off his back and he could finally breathe. He clung to El, immensely grateful to have her in his life. She seemed to take the corpse with all its rotting flesh and exposed bone and covered it with flowers and vines and grass, making it into something beautiful. Something that Will didn’t need to be ashamed about, at least for now. “So, what’d you think of Ghostbusters?” He said, mopping the tears off his face, the sleeves of his sweater getting soaked in the process. She tossed her head side to side, “Ehhh.” El shrugged dramatically as Will hung his mouth open in mock offence, hand over his heart as if he’d been shot. She raised her eyebrows, “Somebody should make a movie about our lives. It would be a lot better.” “Oh, definitely. Can’t say I’d watch it though. I do /not/ want to relive that.” She chuckled, throwing an arm around Will’s shoulders. “We should probably get going.” Will felt more loved than he’d felt in so long. He felt seen in a way nobody had ever seen him before. Even though his feelings for Mike would never go anywhere, maybe he could give the corpse a peek outside every once in a while. Maybe, one day, he could finally let it out, let it breathe, let the sun shine on it in a way that highlighted it in the most beautiful way. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t always have to hate this part of himself.
